


Lesbian Chic

by Fluterbev



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Bets, F/F, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-30
Updated: 2005-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-20 08:41:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluterbev/pseuds/Fluterbev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the matter of gentlemen’s bets, Blair Sandburg was emphatically not a quitter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lesbian Chic

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the very first Sentinel Secrets challenge at Livejournal.

A bottle of Corona in each hand, Blair wove his way through the crowd, back toward where Jim was waiting. “Excuse me. Sorry… sorry,” he apologized as he pushed through, the patrons of Cascade’s newest gay bar flowing left and right out of his path as he went.

He’d been surprised when Jim had readily agreed to come down here with him tonight, for the combined opening and Halloween party. Not that he thought that Jim was at all intolerant – his friend was pretty easy going about lots of stuff that other people might not give him credit for. But Blair had suspected when he’d issued the invitation, nevertheless, that it wouldn’t really be Jim’s scene.

In theory, it wasn’t really his, either. Despite considering himself vaguely bi-curious – albeit in a purely theoretical sense up to now - Blair was pretty much exclusively a ladies man. But the owner of this new venue was an old friend of Blair’s. And Blair had wanted to show his support on the opening night; especially as the bar had been targeted by a group of bigoted zealots who were vociferously campaigning to have it shut down.

The one thing he hadn’t managed, however, was to persuade Jim to dress up in a Halloween costume for the occasion. So out of solidarity for his friend – as he hadn’t wanted to give Jim any reason to back out once he’d said yes – Blair had opted out of that as well. His only sartorial concession to All Hallows Eve were clothes that were black from head to foot, finished off by a necklace of skulls and two dangling skull earrings he’d bought in Mexico during _Dia de los Muertos_.

Reaching their table – and blessing the fact that they had actually arrived here early enough to get one, the turnout having been so good – he found Jim staring off into space, an amused expression on his face. He followed Jim’s gaze, and latched immediately onto the vision that had his friend captivated.

“Oh, man!” Blair chuckled delightedly as he sat down, placing their drinks on the table as he did so. “Would you look at that!” Two attractive young women, dressed in skimpy vampire outfits, were sitting across the room with their arms around each other, kissing passionately.

“Can’t take my eyes off of it, Chief,” Jim commented wryly, as he reached out and snagged the bottle Blair had deposited in front of him, discarding the slice of lime with a flick of his wrist.

Blair squinted at the couple, and masterfully resisted the urge to put on his glasses so he could see better. He started at the sudden thump on his arm. “Could you be any more obvious, Sandburg?” Jim groused.

“Speak for yourself, man,” Blair shot back absently, his attention still fixed on the two women. Man, that was hot. Something about girls getting it on with each other really turned him on – just like ninety per cent of other mostly-straight guys, he suspected. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, surreptitiously adjusting the growing bulge in his tight black jeans.

The hotness of the tableau wasn’t, actually, the reason he was trying to see them more clearly. Well - not the whole reason, anyway. “I know those two,” he said.

“You come here often?” Jim quipped.

Blair chuckled. “All the time, man. No, I mean I _know_ them.” He picked up his Corona, and pushed the lime down the long neck of the bottle before taking a swig. He gestured their way. “They’re from Rainier - they’re both TAs. They’re actually straight.”

Jim snorted. “Yeah. And I’m a drag queen in my spare time.”

“No, I’m serious!” Blair glanced at Jim. His friend was leaning back in his seat, legs sprawled out in relaxation as he watched the show, a suggestion of a lascivious smile on his lips. If his friend had a hard-on because of the spectacle he was observing, it wasn’t apparent. “They’re best friends, Jim,” Blair carried on. “But this kissing thing they’ve got going on,” he gestured vaguely at the two women, who were now gazing into each other eyes, talking softly, “they’re just into the whole lesbian chic angle. It’s all for show. They actually use it to get guys interested. Once they’ve reeled a pair in, they go out and double date.”

Jim was shaking his head. “You, my friend, have just entered the land of De Nile.”

“I’m serious!” Blair was adamant. “I know a couple of people who’ve dated them. As soon as they hook up with their prey, they only have eyes for their chosen guy.” He took a sip of his beer, and gestured with his bottle at the women. “See the one on the right? Celli? We did a few courses together, back when we were undergraduates. She’s a straight as an arrow, man. And Kim - that’s the blonde - she’s doing her doctoral thesis on women’s counter culture, with specific reference to alternate sexualities. In fact,” He took another sip, before placing his bottle on the table, “I’d bet big bucks that if they’re _not_ here to pick up guys, they’re doing it as part of Kim’s research. Blending into the gay scene, so to speak. A participant observation deal.”

“Sandburg,” Jim argued, “no way are they out at a Halloween party, kissing each other senseless, because they’re doing _research_. Unlike you, some people know when to switch off. And as for the ‘attracting guys’ thing - this is a gay bar. The type of guys in here are _not_ the type of guys those two are likely to pick up.”

Blair was about to point out that the two of _them_ would be pretty good candidates; but he was momentarily distracted when the girls started sucking on each others faces again. “Whoa, man!” he exclaimed delightedly. Squirming, he considered a brief trip to the john – certain parts of his anatomy would benefit from a little serious adjustment.

“Chief,” Jim said, interrupting Blair’s reverie; his tone one of patient condescension. “Those two are a couple. There’s no doubt in my mind - they haven’t so much as looked at anybody else in all the time they’ve been here. So,” he added, apparently reading Blair’s mind, “you can forget right now about the two of us moving in on them. Capiche?”

Blair shot him a look. “I don’t believe you, man. Look, I know those two. Okay? They’re straight. Believe me, that’s just an act. Bait, to lure in their catch.” He grinned, waggling his fingers in a come-hither gesture. “Here, fishy fishy!”

Jim held up a hand in rebuttal. “Whoa, easy there, guppy,” he cautioned. “Trust me on this, Sandburg – you’re not their type, and neither am I.”

Blair couldn’t believe Jim was so against the idea that they should put the moves on the girls. But even more annoying was Jim’s seemingly intractable insistence that Celli and Kim couldn’t possibly be straight, despite Blair assuring him – with the benefit of his superior insight - otherwise. “I don’t get you, man,” he complained. “What, you really think that straight friends can’t kiss like _that_ ,” he cocked his head to indicate the two entwined women, “in a platonic way? Not _ever_? Come on, man, this is the nineties. Lots of girls do that these days. Lesbian chic – it’s practically a fashion statement. It doesn’t mean they’re actually hot for each other, okay? Although,” his gaze strayed back over. “They sure _look_ pretty hot.”

Jim raised his eyes to heaven, shaking his head at the same time. “Sandburg, where do you get this stuff?”

Blair glared at him. “I’m serious!”

Jim shook his head again. “You’re dead wrong.”

Jim was really pissing Blair off now. It was time for sterner measures to convince him that the world wasn’t so fucking black and white as he seemed to think. “I bet you ten bucks that I can prove it, man. That friends _just_ like those two can kiss _just_ like that, in a purely non-sexual, platonic way.”

Jim, as Blair well knew, could never resist a challenge. “A hundred,” he stated flatly.

“What!”

Jim capitulated. “Okay, fifty.”

Blair nodded. “You’re on,” he agreed. “But with the proviso that I get to run this show, and prove it _my_ way.”

Jim glanced back at the girls, looking thoughtful. Then he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I accept.”

Blair held out his hand. “Let’s shake on the deal.”

Looking smug, Jim grasped Blair’s hand. “Say goodbye to your money, Chief,” he taunted, in an irritatingly superior voice. His handshake was ultra firm, in the manner of a macho man who just had to prove a point.

Blair’s clasp was even firmer.

As their hands parted, Blair grinned - a shark surveying his dinner. Time to shake up Jim’s narrow view of modern American culture. “Okay then, little buddy,” he drawled. “Pucker up, and get yourself over here.”

It got the desired result. “Are you insane?”

“Hey!” Blair held up his hands. “I never promised I’d get _them_ to prove it. I said friends just _like_ those two. Not _those two_. You and me, we’re best friends, right? And correct me if I’m wrong, but no amount of kissy-face between you and me is _ever_ going to be anything other than platonic. So pucker up, Ellison. Let’s get to it, man!”

Jim just looked at him incredulously.

Inwardly, Blair congratulated himself. Jim was going to back out any minute now, Blair knew. Fifty bucks would soon be his, because if Jim reneged on the deal, the guy would lose, simple as that. And he _would_ renege, Blair had no doubt. He smiled happily, anticipating victory.

“Okay,” Jim said, suddenly looking shifty. “I’ll do it.”

Blair blinked. “Ha, ha,” he retorted. “You’re so funny, man. Come on,” He held out his hand. “Pay up.”

Jim folded his arms across his chest. “You think I’m joking?”

“Uh, look, Jim,” Blair lectured firmly, trying to point out the obvious. “Either way, you lose. Even if we did actually kiss each other, it wouldn’t mean a thing, man, and it’d just prove my point. You might as well just save yourself the trouble, and give in gracefully.” He grinned. “Now, pay up!”

Jim shook his head decisively. “I’m not giving in, Chief.” Then, with a wicked twinkle in his eyes, he demanded, “What’s the matter, Sandburg? Scared I’ll prove you wrong?” He held out his arms invitingly, his grey tee shirt stretching taut across his chest. “C’mon, Casanova. Do your worst. Kiss me!”

Blair realized, with a sudden surge of adrenaline, that Jim actually _meant_ it – he’d called Blair’s bluff and was prepared, if the determination in his face was anything to go by, to actually let Blair kiss him. And if _Blair_ was to back off now, then _he’d_ be the one losing the bet.

In the silence that followed, punctuated by the suddenly rapid beating of Blair’s heart, Blair’s attention was inexorably drawn, sentinel-like, to Jim’s mouth, as the other man’s lips parted and the tip of a glistening tongue snaked out to moisten them seductively.

 _Holy shit_.

Taking a deep breath, and trying to banish the wholly over the top reaction of his body to the prospect of kissing Jim, Blair squared up his shoulders. “Fine,” he declared belligerently. “If that’s the way you want to play it, I’m in. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, my friend.” And, grabbing Jim by the tee-shirt front, Blair leaned forward, and planted one on him, right on the lips.

It was inept, clumsy, messy, and over in a split second. And during that tiny slice of time, Blair was hyper-aware of the softness of Jim’s lips against his own, the slight rasp of stubble at the corner of his mouth, the wetness of Jim’s tongue, and the fragrant heat of the other man’s soft exhalation into Blair’s mouth.

As well as his own throbbing, trapped erection. If he’d been hard before, watching Celli and Kim get it on, he was a fucking _rock_ right now.

But no way in hell was he going to give Jim any indication of his physical predicament. Letting go of Jim’s shirt, he sat back and, trying to breathe normally, adopted a superior air. “Okay, wise guy,” he demanded. “Pay up.”

Jim shook his head. “You’ve got to be joking.” He raised his eyebrows. “Call that a kiss, Hardy?”

Affronted, Blair retorted, “Well what else would you call it?”

“I’d call it a cop out.”

The pun wasn’t lost on Blair. “Oh man, you’re funny.” Latching onto humor like a lifeline, he exploited the distraction for it for all he was worth. “A cop out - get it? You’re a cop, and you let me kiss you in public, in a gay bar, so that makes you a cop, ‘out’. Right?”

“Stop trying to change the subject, Sandburg. And get that smirk off your face.” Jim gestured over toward Celli and Kim, who were still going at it, full steam ahead. “See that? Now _that’s_ a kiss. Until we recreate exactly those same conditions, you’re not playing by the rules. You said, and I quote, that the kiss had to be ‘just like that’.” Jim fixed his gaze back on Blair. “By no stretch of the imagination was what you just initiated _just like that_.”

It was, Blair supposed, fair comment. He should, perhaps, have known better than to try to double-bluff Jim. But he wasn’t going down without a fight. “Look, man, you’ve had your fun, okay? And the deal was that _I_ got to choose how to prove my point – which is exactly what I did. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

“What’s the matter, Sandburg?” Jim taunted. “Afraid I’ll prove you wrong?”

That really _was_ fighting talk. “No way, man! Look…” Blair floundered. “You… you’re just not my type, okay? We’re friends. That’s all. All any more kissing is going to do is prove exactly that. Now why put yourself through that? It’s not going to change anything. Trust me.” He smiled, trying to radiate helpfulness. “I’m just trying to do you a favor here, buddy. Either way, you’re fifty bucks short. Why not make it easy on yourself, forget about it, and just pay up?”

 _Please pay up_ , Blair prayed, worried, despite his bravado, that Jim would insist on going through with this anyway. Because, deep down, he truly _was_ attracted to Jim. He had been for some time. But he was certain that the feeling was emphatically _not_ mutual, despite Jim’s current posturing. Even if Jim was secretly into guys – which Blair totally doubted – Blair didn’t think that Jim would be interested in someone like _him_. And apart from that, Blair valued their friendship far too much to do anything to jeopardize the comfortable dynamic between them by taking a chance and _seriously_ coming on to him.

Jim, who was currently glaring at him in silence, as though waiting for him to give in, was just trying to win the bet and gain the upper hand. Neither of them liked to lose, both being the type to fight to the bitter end. They’d been in this position a million times before – macho bullshit was practically a way of life for them, in a kind of brotherly-rival type way.

Brotherly. Yeah. He could work with that. “Look, Jim, I love you like a brother-” he began.

Jim cut in, his eyes dark with some unfathomable emotion. “We’re doing this kiss thing one more time, Sandburg,” he stated. “And we’re doing it _my_ way. Unless you want to give up right now, and pay me what you owe me.”

Blair swallowed. This obstinacy thing Jim had going on was beginning to go way beyond a joke. And even worse, Jim was looking at him with an expression he’d never before seen directed _his_ way – and it was scarily bringing back memories of Jim’s reaction to Laura McCarthy. Jeez, and Blair had thought _he_ was good at obfuscation. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that Jim was actually _serious_.

Hoping desperately that his _own_ pheromones were not giving away just how inadvertently turned on he was by all of this, he knew he had two choices. To let Jim kiss him, and hope that he could control his body’s reactions sufficiently to convince his friend that he was right; or to give up and admit defeat, losing fifty bucks in the process.

There was no contest. In the matter of gentlemen’s bets, Blair Sandburg was emphatically _not_ a quitter.

“Okay,” Blair agreed, hiding his nervousness under grinning bravado. “I’m in. But I’m telling you, man,” he asserted, “you are so wrong.”

Jim just smiled darkly, the sight not helping damp down Blair’s libido any. Blair held his breath as the other man stirred, then slowly reached one hand out toward him. Mesmerized by its approach, Blair studied the masculine dark hair on Jim’s forearm, culminating in a slender, long fingered hand – a very _male_ hand – as it filled his vision. He exhaled shakily as the fingers touched his cheek, oh-so-gently. “Easy, Chief,” Jim said softly, as he stroked, and Blair’s spine tingled with electricity. “I’m not going to bite you.” Jim’s expression turned predatory. “ _Yet!_ ”

Oh, _man!_

The hand withdrew, and Blair couldn’t move, pinioned as he was by Jim’s hawk-eyed stare. He was no longer aware of the fact that they were in a bar, surrounded by people and activity and noise, because all of his concentration was dominated by Jim – lips slightly parted and eyes hooded with intent - as he swooped in for the kill.

Blair was expecting, somehow, given the look of intense hunger on Jim’s face, to be all but consumed. Jim was doing this to prove a point and establish dominance; and Blair anticipated that there would be conflict in the touch of Jim’s mouth on his. That Jim would force Blair either to capitulate or to fight, establishing which one of them would gain supremacy by initiating a ferocious joust of tongues.

Blair closed his eyes, determined to fight Jim’s assault with indifference until outright forced into battle. But, to his surprise, instead of devouring, Jim’s lips touched his tenderly; dipping in almost experimentally, little puffs of breath softly stirring Blair’s mouth. And as the soft kisses continued, Blair felt his lower lip seized gently, as Jim sucked it briefly into his own mouth before letting go.

Blair gasped at that intense sensation, the tremors in its wake zooming straight to his cock; tortured and trapped as it was. And while Blair was still shuddering with reaction, his head was seized between two strong hands; Jim relentlessly holding his target steady as he deepened the kiss.

All resistance fled now that the predator had moved in to take what he wanted. Blair’s mouth opened to Jim’s, his whole body tingling almost unbearably with arousal. At that evidence of his capitulation, Jim’s hands tightened, gripping fistfuls of the hair just behind his ears; the pulling sensation on his scalp almost, but not quite, on the verge of pain. At the same time, Jim’s tongue crept in to engage Blair’s, as he took full possession of Blair’s mouth.

Blair found himself surrendering helplessly to the onslaught, all thoughts of resistance, or even of attempting to redress the balance by fighting Jim for control, driven out of his mind. He was in erotic heaven – because, oh man! Could Jim kiss!

The hands which gripped Blair’s hair so mercilessly gradually slackened; moving to slide sensuously down Blair’s back to pull him close to Jim’s chest. Jim’s mouth held Blair’s captive all the while, giving no quarter, lips and tongue a relentless, sensuous invasion. And as Blair was pulled up hard against Jim’s hot body - his own arms reaching reflexively around the other man in turn - he gasped helplessly into Jim’s mouth; the resulting bolt of lightning in his nerve endings zigzagging down his spine and straight to his groin.

Blair was totally lost. Utterly defeated. Jim was persistent and ruthless, and any will Blair might have had to fight his corner had disintegrated. The aching, trapped pulse in his jeans was driving him wild, and if this sensual torment didn’t end soon, Blair was going to come in his pants. But he was powerless to stop it.

As if Jim had read his mind, and understood the precarious precipice he had driven Blair to, the kiss gentled and ceased, passion segueing seamlessly into tenderness. The confining arms, which had manhandled Blair so forcefully into a restraining embrace, slackened and soothed as they gently guided Blair’s head down to rest on Jim’s shoulder. Jim sighed hugely, and Blair felt himself being rocked slightly in the other man’s arms, as he recovered in the aftermath.

Allowing himself to go with it for a moment, Blair breathed deeply and just stayed there, content to let the comfort he was being offered pull him back from the brink. But his mind raced, wondering at the implications of what they’d just done. Because he knew now, without any doubt, that the arms which were sheltering him so protectively were the arms not of a friend, but of a lover.

And he wondered where the hell they were going to go from here.

“You’re thinking too hard, Chief,” Jim’s voice rumbled next to Blair’s ear. He sounded happy and content.

“I can’t help it, man,” Blair admitted. “This is a little… unexpected. I’m trying to process what just happened.”

Jim chuckled. “You wouldn’t be you, otherwise.”

Pulling away, Blair looked up into Jim’s face. His friend looked like the cat that got the cream, and he was watching Blair with amusement.

Blair glanced down between them, and noted the conspicuous bulge in Jim’s jeans – the match of his own. “I guess I owe you fifty bucks,” he stated, grinning up at his friend.

Jim cocked his head in agreement. “I guess you do.”

Blair glanced over at Celli and Kim. The women were sitting side by side, holding hands and chatting, their love for each other plain. “Maybe they gave guys up,” Blair speculated. “Maybe this is who they are now.”

Jim took his hand, and their fingers entwined. It felt, Blair decided, really natural. Really _right_. Then Jim spoke, his voice soft. “Maybe I’ve given up women,” he said.

Blair looked at him sharply. There was something unguarded in the way he’d said it, as though he wasn’t really sure how Blair was going to react. It made something deep inside Blair twist sorrowfully – for a guy who was so in control, and so fucking _sure_ of himself, Jim could be amazingly vulnerable at times.

“Maybe,” Blair asserted, wanting desperately to wipe away Jim’s fear, “ _I’ve_ given up women, too.” He held up their joined hands between them pointedly. “Maybe this is who _we_ are now.”

Jim smiled blindingly, his relief plain. “I think it’s who we always were, Chief.”

The intensity of the moment passed. Sitting back in their seat, they both picked up their drinks. Their joined hands rested on the seat between them and, looking around curiously at the other clientele, Blair realized that no one in here was giving them a second glance. In fact, other public displays of affection between same sex couples were going on here and there around the room, blending in naturally with the chat. What had happened between Jim and Blair, it seemed, was totally business as usual among this crowd.

Even if it had completely turned the whole world on its head for the two of them.

After a while, Blair spoke up. “Jim?” he said.

“Yeah?”

“That stuff I said, about Lesbian chic? And how friends can kiss passionately, but that it can be platonic?”

“Yeah?”

Blair shook his head. “It doesn’t apply to us at all. I was talking out of my ass, man.”

Jim grinned and, leaning over, pecked Blair sweetly on the cheek. “Don’t diss your ass, Sandburg,” he said.

Blair chuckled delightedly, leaning closer. “Why not?” he demanded.

Jim nipped Blair’s ear, then tongued his earrings seductively, his talented mouth sending a ripple of heat through Blair’s body. “Because,” Jim whispered huskily, “I’m taking you home now. And as soon as I get you there, your ass is mine!”


End file.
